Do You Remember?
by Ruu
Summary: A fic about Pintel and Ragetti. Just yer old "them in jail" story. Ragetti ponders the past, Pintel ponders Ragetti.


SUMMARY: Just yer old 'them in jail' scenario. Ragetti ponders the past, Pintel ponders Ragetti.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them and I only want them to have a larger fan base. I'm sure with  
the pretty pairings with Jack and Will, this one could be over-looked, even though not only did  
they cross-dress but, they have the most chemistry. Not to mention people prolly won't like it,  
bring on the flames.   
  
My pal Bri-chan did a fan art for this fic. Here be the link, it is really, really good.  
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/3097310/  
  
Do You Remember....?  
~~**~~  
  
They were bloody starving them before they hung them. And the British claimed that  
pirates were the lowest scum on the earth. Pintel sighed as he rested his head against the cold wall  
of the holding cell that he was in. Cold. He could feel again, and the cold and hunger weren't two  
sensations that he was looking forward to feeling again.  
  
Looking over at his cell-mate and friend, he couldn't help but feel that starvation would be  
his killer and not the hangman's noose. Ragetti was too thin to begin with, now days without  
enough food was starting to waste his bones away.  
  
While Pintel was content to sit on the straw laced floor and contemplate the lack of food  
and the pains in his belly, Ragetti would sit on the small bench with his long legs pulled up tight to  
his body and watch the sea from the tiny window. He never asked his friend what he saw out  
there besides water, they all had their own way with dealing the captivity that been forced upon  
them. But Ragetti's silence was unnatural, the usual daft babbling cut off as soon as the cell bars  
locked shut.   
  
One by one, Pintel had watched his fellow crew members, so sick with disease and hunger,  
taken away for the gallows. Each time that a British soldier would come stomping down the stone  
stairs, every pirate in the cellblock froze. These men had no set schedule, there was no order.  
They'd come down and stare at each and everyone, probably remembering which pirate they had  
fought on board the Dauntless. Then they would pick one out and led him up the stares to death.   
He had to have been there fifteen or sixteen days. Day one was reserved for Jack  
  
Sparrow's hanging. The only hanging so far that did not occur. Now the former crew of the Black  
Pearl was reduced by 15 men.  
  
So far Pintel had been lucky, or not, depending on how you looked at it. An easy death,  
the gallows would be. Better than this lingering death.  
  
"Wot you finkin' Rags?" Pintel spoke to break his friend's silence, if not to dispel his  
thoughts on food.   
  
"Nuffin'." was the despondent response.  
  
"You gots to be finkin' somefing, starin' outta that window like thats." he pursued.  
  
Ragetti was quiet for a few seconds but he answered. "Do you remember when we found  
yer coin, Pinters?"   
  
The question caught Pintel off gaurd. "Wot you say?"  
  
Ragetti finally turned from the window and gave him a slightly off centered stare. "When  
we finally found that coin of yers? The cursed one?"  
  
"I know wot one you mean, blithering fool." he snapped, his short temper breaking.  
  
Ragetti recoiled back into the wall, but the stare never wavered. Pintel realized that  
Ragetti was used to the short, vicious temper, though he was still started when yelled at suddenly.  
  
Ragetti nodded slightly and continued, talking more than he had in three days. "Remember  
how it was wif that one guy wif the birdy?"  
  
"Yeah, I remember. It was wif a parrot, fool, not a 'birdy'."  
  
"'E like me eye, that birdy did."  
  
"Parrot, dolt. Parrot."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Then 'e messed on yer nice jacket, didn't 'e? Didn't 'e Pinters?" Ragetti was  
now smiling again. That raised a bit of hope inside Pintel's chest. Normally Ragetti was the one  
member of Barbossa's crew that was always grinning like a bloody sod, without a care in the  
world. But when they traded the curse's captivity for the British, the smile disappeared. And that  
put more despair on Pintel than the bars did.  
  
"I always did like that jacket, I did." Pintel murmured.  
  
"So did that birdy."   
  
"Parrot, you bloody idiot. It ain't no birdy. It is a bloody parrot!"  
  
"S'rry Pinters, parrot, parrot." Ragetti repeated the words several times as if committing it  
to memory. "You remember when we found my coin?" he held up a wasted thin hand to show a  
scar stretching across the palm, reminder of the blood debt.   
  
"Yeah, I do. That pretty lady had stuff down 'er knickers and yer were too childish to  
reach in a takes it."   
  
"It were 'er knickers, Pinters, 'er knickers. I can't be sticking my 'and down there wif out  
gettin' slapped or worse!"  
  
"She was a whore, Rags, a whore, you give 'er three more gold pieces and take back yer  
coin and she's be chipper as a robin."  
  
"Still, I don't want to be doin' 'er a dishonor."  
  
"Yer a pirate Rags."   
  
"Not fer much longer." Ragetti's smiled dropped and he turned back to the window.  
  
Pintel felt the desperation and hunger fall back upon him. After their playful banter had  
ended, the reality came back. Any day they could be picked for their noose. But looking at his  
closest friend, the thought again that he wouldn't make it to the noose. He caught himself staring  
at the ribs so clearly visible through the opening in the maroon shirt.  
  
"'Ow's yer stomach feelin', Rags?"  
  
"Empty."  
  
"Mine too. You don't look so good there, Rags."  
  
Ragetti rubbed at his wooden eye and winced at the pain that wood caused, pain that  
before couldn't be felt, now felt again. "My body kinda 'urts."  
  
Pintel picked himself up and crawled over to the small bench and sat next to his crouched  
friend. "Where does it 'urt, Rags?"   
  
"Everywhere, Pinters, it always 'urts, it never did before." Ragetti still kept his hand up to  
his eye, rubbing, tears forming in the other.  
  
Pintel reached out and pulled the younger man against him in a bear hug. He tucked the  
dirty blond head under his chin and just kept him in a tight grip. "Get comfortable, you ol' fool.  
Maybe then you won't 'urt so much."  
  
Bony hands rested on thicker ones. The thin, frail body relaxed against Pintel. "Yer a good  
friend, Pinters."   
  
Pintel didn't answer to that, content with their position. "Wot do you see out that  
window, Rags, wot do you see beside water?"  
  
"I just keep hopin' that the Pearl would come back fer us."  
  
"Jack Sparrow had 'er now, not Barbossa. Last I heard, 'e was dead."  
  
"I know."   
  
"Then why get yer hopes up, fool?"  
  
"Better than focus on my stomach."  
  
Pintel smiled into the blond hair. He had a point, that he did. But he wouldn't tell him that,  
that would be a bit damaging for his pride.  
  
"Are we gonna get outta here, Pinters?" he shifted more into the embrace.  
  
Sighing, Pintel tighten he arms around the impossibly thin boy in his grip and permitted  
himself one small kiss on the top of Ragetti's head. "No, Rags, I don't think we will."  
  
He kept his grip tight as he felt the younger boy grow still. 


End file.
